


Curiosity Killed the Cat

by Agent_Talis (orphan_account)



Category: Back to the Future (Movies), Doctor Who (2005), The Professionals
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multifandom Crossover, Time Travel, Violence, case-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Agent_Talis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1984 the Miles Soldier's Hospital, located just outside Hill Valley, was destroyed in a unexplained act of arson. After it had been extinguished, locals found the remains of a twisted object in the ruins of the building - an object that was quickly confiscated by a shadowy organisation called UNIT. Locals also reported flashes of blue lightning when there was no storm and those responsible were never named. Rapidly the story passed into a town legend, whispered by torchlight at midnight feasts.<br/>Naturally, the Doctor is intrigued and, along with his companion Dr Martha Jones, returns to the hospital before its untimely destruction. A quick side trip quickly becomes something much bigger as they discover that they are not alone in their interest. The building has become a hideout for terrorists and they are trapped inside, on the run, with a strange set of companions.<br/>What was the object? What is the interest for an eccentric scientist and his teen-aged assistant? Why are two CI5 agents operating in America?<br/>The group will need all of their wits and skill to survive... especially after they are plunged into a race that they wouldn't have even imagined.<br/>You know what they say...<br/>1/4 chapters</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curiosity Killed the Cat

**Author's Note:**

> The characters in this story are the properties of their respective owners, I won't even pretend to have created such amazing universes.  
> This story is set:  
> Between the episodes Blink and Utopia (Doctor Who)  
> Just after the events of Back to the Future: The Game and  
> After the finale of The Professionals.

Time travel has always been a precarious pursuit.  
It could be used to better the world. It could be used to save the life of someone you love. It could be used to destroy something that the time traveller personally hates – or it could be used to end the world.  
None of these are the correct way to use time travel.  
The best and most correct way to use time travel is to slip into the water without causing a single ripple.  
Time travel should be about observing, not changing.  
Unfortunately, he was never very good at following this rule.  
The man slid down the broken wall, his hands folded by his side. Dragon’s breath curled in the starry air. He watched it until it faded away, the fragile beauty overshadowed by the sheer magnificence of the heavens as a backdrop. He smiled and resisted the urge to close his eyes; he didn’t want to miss a thing. Frost crackled underneath him as the man shifted to a more comfortable position. Carefully, he released another ghost into the night.  
This was a good night for ghosts.  
It took a while before the memory unfurled, but when it did, he wasn’t sure how he could have forgotten it.  
It had been a day and half a night filled with danger, fear and heroics that on a battlefield would have gone down in history and preached to bored kids in class. Except, anonymity had been the only way that this particular situation could have been resolved and thus those heroes were never praised for what they did.  
Besides, it was all in a day’s work.  
So the man let his head fall back against the dusty bricks and remembered that day and half night from so, so many lifetimes ago.  
This is not just his story.  
These are not just his memories. 

#*#

“So where and when are we going?”  
The Doctor flashed Martha a grin, “You’re learning!”  
Martha rolled her eyes in response, trying to pretend that she wasn’t overwhelmed with excitement and amazement by the simple fact that she could even say that sentence without thinking she was crazy. Since the Doctor had appeared in the Royal Hope Hospital, life had been anything but dull. Martha was at the perfect stage; still new enough to get butterflies, but experienced enough to keep her head when they landed. “So,” she asked eagerly, “where and when?”  
The Doctor threw a couple of switches – overly dramatically she felt – and announced, “19th May, 1984 – Miles Soldier’s Hospital, just two miles from the town of Hill Valley.” Martha blinked.  
“And why…?” she asked. That just sounded so… ordinary. “C’mon, what’s so exciting about this place?”  
The Doctor winked at her, wrenching an unidentifiable lever down, then said, “It’s a surprise.”  
“C’mon Doctor, I wanna know,” Martha answered, her eyes gleaming. She leaned over the control panel; bringing her face close to the Doctor’s, “aliens? Some great historical event? What?”  
“Martha, Martha, M-ar-tha,” the Doctor dragged her name out as he rolled his eyes skywards, “It’s like Christmas! Do you remember the excitement in the morning? You know, when you see all those shiny, shiny presents, all wrapped up and glittering under the tree and you really, really want to open them, but you wait until you can’t bear it any longer –“  
“Yeah,” Martha interrupted him, “I haven’t been that excited about Christmas since I was seven.” The Doctor pouted.  
“How can you not be excited about Christmas?” he demanded. He looked like a child, Martha decided – her heart fluttering despite herself at the gorgeously innocent expression on his face.  
How could a man so handsome be so ignorant about the world of love?  
Or lust, she admitted. She wasn’t sure it was love exactly -  
It was just that the Doctor was such an utterly amazing and absurd and – yes – brilliant person that it was hard not to be just swept away by those Tigger movements and technobabble and all those disjointed speeches that showed his admiration for the human race. To be honest, she was only a little surprised that she had fallen so hard.  
“Hello! TARDIS to Martha, TARDIS to Martha!” Martha shook her head and focused on the Doctor.  
“Sorry, I’m listening.”  
“We’re just about to materialise,” the Doctor informed her, grinning so widely that Martha half expected it to span his face twice, “you may want to hang on.” The resulting sudden nearly threw Martha across the room. She just managed to get a grip on the control panel and hung on despite her arms feeling like they were being wrenched out of their sockets. Lights flashed around her – thankfully nothing was sparking – and a screaming groan filled the air. Risking a look at her travel companion, Martha saw that the Doctor was whooping in exhilaration, clearly having the time of his life. Joining her voice with his, Martha closed her eyes and listened to the thrumming of her heart as they plunged headfirst into another adventure. One thing she could always count on – it was going to be brilliant. 

“Here we are, Miles Soldier’s Hospital, situated in the state of California.” the Doctor took a deep breath of warm air before continuing, “It’s Saturday 19th May in the year 1984. It is eight fifteen in the morning and it’s going to rain later, so bring a coat.” Martha laughed at that and tugged her red jacket off, knotting it around her waist. How the Doctor could tell was beyond her. The sun was beating down, even at this time in the morning, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The Doctor strode out on to the gravel and bounced up and down a few times. Martha couldn’t tell if he was testing the ground or just too impatient to stay still. “We are currently two miles from the town of Hill Valley and just a few feet from the back door of Miles Soldier’s Hospital.” he announced grandly, still eyeing her.  
“Miles Soldier’s Hospital,” Martha repeated, tasting the name. “That’s a bit long, isn’t it? Why can’t we call it MSH?”  
“Mishaich,” the Doctor shook his head and tried again, “Emeshaitch. That’s harder to remember!” Martha rolled her eyes.  
“Here’s a man who can pronounce Sycorx and Raxa – Raxacor…” she trailed off looking lost. “Those places anyway.”  
“Raxacoricofallapatorius,” the Doctor corrected, “but that’s easy!”  
“I’ll take your word for it.” Shaking her head, Martha turned towards the huge building towering above her and, shielding her eyes from the sun, quickly assessed it.  
Her first impression was that it was rundown and overgrown, strings of black-green ivy curling up the walls like snakes. The dirty windows stared down at her, bright glints flashing off invisible spider threads as they caught the sun’s rays. Dry brick dust coated the gravel under their feet. The entire building had an ominous and abandoned feel. This impression may have been helped by the fact that it looked like a sprawled, dead creature, collapsed under the weight of life to lie there, surrounded by bright, brittle grasses that waved in the sticky breeze. “I’m guessing that it isn’t inhabited anymore?” Martha hazarded.  
“Gold star! Yeah, it was used as a hospital for wounded and shell-shocked soldiers in World War II – hence the name – but it was shut down during the nineteen fifties due to government cutbacks. They started demolishing it in nineteen seventy two, but even that was stopped by money problems. See Martha,” the Doctor raised his eyebrows as he reached for the door handle, “money doesn’t solve everything.” The handle, eaten away by wood rot, disintegrated as he gripped it. “Oops.”  
“We’ve been here for less than five minutes and you’re already breaking things,” Martha admonished jokingly, “Here, let me try.” Digging her finger into the gap left by the now atomised handle, she attempted the yank the door open. It refused to give. “It’s locked.” Without uttering a sound, the Doctor whipped his sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket and pointed it at the lock. A harsh buzzing filled the air and there was a sweet click of the lock finding home. “Thanks.” The Doctor merely grinned at her and stowed the device away again. Martha pulled at the door again and it swung open far more smoothly than she expected, the hinges groaning at their treatment. Wincing at the noise, Martha stepped inside and squinted in the dim light. The Doctor followed her, only pausing to wedge the back door open. A block of light streamed through the resultant gap, illuminating a corridor littered with broken furniture and bits of masonry. Martha began to pick her way through the mess; to her surprise all of the larger obstacles had been pushed up against the wall and they disturbed only a small amount of dust as they passed. “It’s a bit dark in here, have you got a light in that voluminous coat of yours?” Martha asked shivering as a stay spider web brushed her cheek.  
“Here you go,” the Doctor flicked the ON/OFF button of a slim torch from deep within one of his other pockets (Martha sometimes wondered if they were mini universes or something like the inside of the TARDIS because of the sheer amount of stuff he could fit in there without slowing himself down) and passed it to her. The beam cut through the darkness far more effectively than the sunlight from outside. The Doctor drew his sonic back out and turned it on as well, the blue light mingling with Martha’s and casting disjointed shadows on the walls. 

“So,” Martha said after a few minutes of walking, “What’s the story then?”  
“Eh? I thought I told you,” the Doctor answered, poking a patch of green mould growing on a splintered chair leg, “It’s an old hospital.”  
“No, what’s the attraction for us? I mean, we don’t have a time machine so that we can go back to time when a hospital is shut when we could be at the opening ceremony – don’t put that in your mouth!”  
Affronted, the Doctor let the grass stems spiral out of his fingers, “Miles Soldier’s Hospital mysteriously burned down in 1984, locals report seeing flashes of what looked like blue lightning at the same time they noticed the blaze.”  
“Let me guess, no lightning storm?”  
“Bingo,” the Doctor directed his sonic down a left hand passageway, “or should that be scrabble? I like scrabble, been ages since I’ve played it. Anyway, this place was abandoned – as you can see – but a weird artefact was found in the wreckage after the blaze.”  
“Alien?” Martha asked, carefully negotiating a particularly traitorous length of floor. The Doctor shrugged.  
“UNIT confiscated it from the police so I’m pretty sure.” he gently pushed a door open and shone his torch inside. Satisfied that it was empty, he withdrew and continued shadowing Martha up the passage. “I was just curious, that’s all.” Martha smiled.  
“You’re always curious,” she said. The Doctor inclined his head with a devastating grin and bounded ahead of her, little exclamations of awe and pleasant disbelief bubbling out of his lips. He’s obviously having the time of his life. Martha’s smile faded. Now she was at the back the creeping unease was starting to tickle her stomach. The Doctor was treating this building like a playground, but there was something about it was disturbing her. At first she assumed it was the more than passing resemblance to a horror film, then she thought it might be the unfounded fears of someone stalking them through the hazy darkness, then she realised it was because the building didn’t feel empty.  
Martha wasn’t sure how she knew this, but she knew it with the certainty of her own name. She hurried after the Doctor, nearly tripping on the anonymous rubbish littering the floor and said, “Are you sure it’s empty?”  
“’Course it is,” the Doctor replied without turning round. “Why wouldn’t it be?”  
“It’s just…” Martha shook her foot free from a crumpled file on the floor, “I’ve got this feeling…”  
“Nah, that’s just the human ‘gaze detection’. Your brain’s just reverting to its natural instincts. You’re in a new environment that you haven’t determined as safe yet, so your senses are heightened in order to make sure you survive. Quite ingenious really.”  
“I don’t think I’m imagining it, Doctor.” Martha stopped dead, her gaze fixed on the dusty ceiling. The Doctor turned around, his head tilted to one side. “Look.” The Doctor crossed back to her and stood at her side, his sonic pointed up at where Martha was indicating.  
“Martha,” he began, “I think you may have something there.”  
Fixed in place about a metre and a half above their heads was a single, clean security camera. The sonic light mingled with the red glow, creating a sickly purple colour. As they watched it swivelled down until it was looking straight at them. There was a shrill whirr as the lens twisted in order to magnify the pair. The Doctor remained staring up at it, the noise seeming not to bother him, Martha held herself still like a cornered rabbit, waiting and watching. “What are we going to do?” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth.  
The Doctor glanced at her, “They can’t do anything to us, Martha. They’re just behind a camera.”  
“It could be the owners!” Martha snapped, “I don’t think they’ll thank us for breaking in here!”  
“We didn’t break in, I sonicked us in.”  
“Oh, that’s such a difference.” Martha jerked her head in the direction of the camera, “C’mon, let’s at least get out of its vision.” The Doctor shrugged and followed her away and along the passage, scuffing his feet in the dirt. They walked in silence for a few moments before Martha said, “We should apologise. It is their property after all.”  
“Actually…” the Doctor stopped dead, an expression of realisation twisting his face.  
“Doctor? What is it?”  
“Martha…” he raised his head and met her gaze with a wide-eyed mirror of her look, “this place is condemned. Nobody’s allowed in. They were going to knock this place down. There shouldn’t be any cameras.” At that moment, a wild, clattering, fast noise began to rumble through the building. Both of them stepped back in surprise, too stunned to take any affirmative action at that precise moment.  
“What is that?” Martha asked softly. The Doctor’s head snapped back round. He grabbed hold of Martha’s hand.  
“Run!”

#*#

They ran. The Doctor led the way, his brown long coat billowing magnificently behind him; it kept slapping at Martha’s knees as she pelted along behind him, her breath rasping in her throat. A startled shout broke over the pounding of her head, spurring her to greater lengths to escape, to flee. “This way!” Martha yanked on the Doctor’s arm, dragging him back and down a different corridor which was heavily littered with plastic covers that could have been used as file protectors. The shouts were growing louder, except they appeared to be coming from the right of them. Great, the Doctor thought viciously, tugging Martha away from the sound. The plastic under their feet was slippery and flying everywhere, the Doctor was fervently hoping that it would trip up one of their pursuers and not vice versa. A crack like thunder snapped out over his head, sending a dribble of brick dust corkscrewing into his hair. “They’ve got guns!”  
“I noticed! Keep moving!” the Doctor yelled back, fumbling for his screwdriver. From behind them, he thought he heard one of their hunters shouting something about ‘alive and don’t’. He really hoped that he wasn’t just imagining it. They cut round another corner and then backtracked down a third, hearing the echo of feet fall further behind as they did. They were fit, but the Doctor was starting to struggle and poor Martha didn’t have the advantage of two hearts to pump extra blood around the body. “Come – on –“ 

As they skidded into another passage, they weren’t expecting to collide quite so heavily with two people coming the other way. 

Martha gasped as she landed on a small frame, the wind knocked from her lungs. From the sound of it she had been the lucky one, the figure underneath managing a strangled, “Jesus Christ!”  
“Sorry! Sorry!” she pulled herself up to find she was half-lying on, half-crushing what appeared to be a teenaged boy wearing a red-orange down vest. He rolled over, clutching at his stomach. She glanced wildly around to see the Doctor hauling an old scientist type to his feet, brushing down his loud Hawaiian shirt. “Doctor, you ok?”  
“Yeah,” the Doctor didn’t spare her a glance, instead directing the newcomers in as serious a tone as he could manage, “Listen, this may not be the best time now, but if you hadn’t realised, we are being chased. By people. With guns. Now, I severely doubt it’s in your best interests to be hanging about when they arrive as people with guns are bad.”  
“Yeah, I think we can work that out, thanks,” the teen shot back breathlessly as the scientist fussed around him, dragging him to his feet, “I’m ok, Doc. Really. It’s you I’m more worried about -”  
The man addressed as ‘Doc’ just shook his head and said, “I think we should utilise our full capability for reaching maximum velocity in the next two seconds –“  
“English Doc!” The Doctor shot a look over his shoulder and then sprinted forwards, dragging at the boy’s shirt.  
“Run!” he yelled. For a brief heartbeat the other two were frozen in the face of the split second change, but sheer animal instinct spurred their legs into action, hurling them down the splintered corridor behind the Doctor as he tugged the teen along; their feet slipping and sliding on the worn floorboards. Martha followed his example, grabbing a handful of Doc’s sleeve, worried that the old man wouldn’t be able to keep up. She was pleasantly surprised to see that he was just as swift as her, despite the wild white hair.  
“Shouldn’t we – run for the – exit?” the boy yelled at the Doctor, trying to retrieve his hand from his grasp. “We’re – running the – wrong – way!”  
“If you haven’t – not-iced,” Martha panted, “There’s a madman – with – with – a gun behind us!”  
“No there isn’t.” the boy shook himself free from the Doctor as they came to a stop in the middle of a corridor and pointed back the way they came. “He fell – fell behind a few turns ago.”  
“We lost him?” Martha queried, bent double. Both the Doctor and the Doc shook their heads simultaneously.  
“I doubt it,” the Doctor said, casting a puzzled glance at the scientist, “He would’ve been able to outrun all of us. He was barely out of breath.”  
“He must have dropped behind because he was aware of something that would make pursuing us a pointless endeavour,” Doc waved his finger at them while massaging a stitch in his side and added breathlessly, “therefore he stopped chasing us in order to carry out that plan.” The Doctor gave him an admiring look.  
“Finally!” he grinned, “Someone who’s just as clever as me… nearly.”  
Martha poked him reproachfully, “Doctor, you’re being rude – again.”  
“Was that rude?”  
“Yes.”  
“Wait, wait, wait, wait…” the boy turned round and stared at the Doctor and Martha, utter confusion on his face. “Who the hell are you?”  
“Actually, I don’t think this is the time –“ the Doctor began, starting to jog back down the corridor, dislodging a dog-eared notebook from its entrapment between the floorboards. At that moment a shadowy figure skidded into view from around the corner, drawing a gun. The Doctor whirled around in time to see two more figures advancing from the other end, guns pointed at them. “Ah,” the Doctor stepped back, his hands held in the air. “Yeah, I think I saw the intruders run that way –“  
“Shuddup!” the squat one raised his gun higher and centred it on the Doctor. “Put your hands where I can see them!”  
“I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding –“  
“Hands up! Now! Stop talking!”  
“I think you should listen to me…” to his surprise, the squat man laughed harshly. The man standing to his right looked uncomfortable, his unreadable expression wearing lines in his face. His burning blue gaze flicked behind them. His eyebrow quirked. The movement was so small that everyone except the Doctor missed it. The Doctor blinked.  
“You know what skinny? We weren’t told to bring all of you lot back…” as he said that, Squat thumbed the hammer of his gun, triumph clinging to him like sweat, “and I don’t like you.”  
Suddenly there were voices everywhere. Dust and noise billowed up in that long moment of silver terror, thunder dying above their heads. Half-dazed, Martha remembered two clear sentences that smashed above the din. The first was “GREAT SCOTT!”  
The second was “Duck!”  
She obeyed.  
There were two answers of gunfire. 

#*#

Cautiously the Doctor raised his head and realised, to his surprise, that he was still alive. Eyebrow was leaning over the sprawled form of Squat, expert hands checking for a pulse. There really was no need. Squat’s brains were decorating the floor behind him, the scent of blood sweet and sickening. “Dammit Ray, you blew our cover.” There was no heat in the sentence.  
“So I noticed,” Ray holstered his weapon and stepped forwards, rubbing a hand through a halo of curls. “C’mon. You shot him too.”  
“Shoulda left it to me, sunshine – that was a one in a million shot!”  
“Yeah, well…” Ray leaned over and offered Martha his hand, “Wasn’t sure you were goin’ to make it in time.” Martha accepted it, astonishment drowning any words she might have had. “Are you lot alright?” he asked, his tone friendly.  
There was a ragged chorus of the affirmative. “Good,” Eyebrow said sharply, tucking the gun that had recently belonged to Squat into his trousers as he straightened up. “We need to get out of here – now. Tier and his goons’ll be after us any minute now. Cowley,” he added, a reprimanding glare, “is going to kill you.”  
“You shot him first,” Ray retorted, helping Doc to his feet. The Doctor stared at him. The argument had the sound of a chronic wrangle that had clearly been going on for at least a decade. Or just under, he conceded, taking note of their apparent ages. “Right, we’re escorting you out; if we stay here we’ll be pinned down in a matter of minutes by Tier and his lot. I’ll take the rear, Bodie, you lead.” Eyebrow nodded and began to move off to check around the corner. “Miss, you stick close to Bodie. You’ll enjoy that, won’t you?” he added teasingly to the other man. Bodie gave him a withering glare and then winked at Martha. Who blushed in embarrassment, which quickly turned to annoyance.  
“Skinny, you stick behind your girlfriend and you, sir, follow him. Kid, you stay with Doyle.” the boy nodded, still too stunned to say anything coherent. Doc shot him a glance, his eyes comically wide. The teen shrugged back. Bodie nodded down a side corridor. “This way… and try to keep up.” 

Progress was slow, but efficient. Martha got the impression that the unwieldiness of the group was irking their rescuers but they were too caught up in scanning their surroundings to put it into words. Bodie led them like a patrol commander in the jungle, using hand signals that were easily understandable. The pace itself was fast, but they didn’t cover much distance due to the many stops for Bodie or Doyle to assess the situation. The group was silent, partially due to Bodie’s orders and partially because there wasn’t much to say. The Doctor was jiggling about behind her every time they halted, his lips clamped securely together to prevent his thoughts from being voiced at three hundred words a seconds. She could almost hear his brain whirring away with ideas and theories. He was also sending disdainful glances towards Bodie and Doyle – or more specifically, the guns gleaming in their hands. The anger that had been momentarily knocked out of him by the suddenness of the killing (the word murder kept floating through Martha’s brain), but now it was burning forcefully. Pacifist that he was, the Doctor probably still thought that they could have talked their way out of it.  
Finally, the Doctor could restrain himself no longer. They were hunkered down near a stairway, Doyle checking behind them for pursuers, when he piped up, “I think we should all introduce ourselves, because running around in silence isn’t very interesting or polite.”  
“Keep your voice down!” Bodie hissed. “Jesus, do you want to get killed?”  
“No… but I would like to know everyone is. After all, we’re all running for our lives. It’ll be nice to know who I'm running for my life with.” his manic grin lit up the corridor. Despite the situation Doc chuckled which, in turn, made the boy smile as well. “That’s more like it! If you want I’ll go first.” The Doctor tugged out his psychic paper from his suit pocket and waved it in the others’ faces. Martha caught a brief suggestion of her face before the Doctor whipped it away again. “I’m the Doctor and this is Martha. We’re building inspectors from…” at this he paused, desperation to think of a company creeping into his gaze.  
“Gringotts,” Martha supplied hastily.  
The Doctor raised his eyebrows at her choice but continued, “yeah, Gringotts.” he gestured grandly at the ceiling. “You see our boss wants to buy this place to make it into a, err, a fish tank emporium.”  
“A fish tank emporium,” the boy deadpanned behind him. “You’re kidding me.”  
“No… it’s a big business now,” the Doctor attempted to nod assuredly, the lie picking up speed. He was just rolling with it now so he added, “you should see the designs – fish tanks everywhere.”  
“Yeah, we were sent to check it out,” Martha confirmed, “but this wasn’t the reception that we were expecting, was it Doctor?”  
“Oh no, I’m think I’ll put in a complaint to the owner of this place,” the Doctor said. Bodie grinned.  
“Good luck with that.”  
The Doctor twisted round to look at the Doc and extended his hand, “What about you and your young friend here?”  
The Doc offered his hand a wide-eyed stare and the teen quickly cut in with, “I’m staying with Doc - Doctor Brown, he’s my – my uncle. He’s my uncle, Doc.” he noticed the Doctor’s enquiring look and continued, “My name’s Marty, Marty McFly.” The Doctor grabbed his hand and pumped it enthusiastically. Marty bore it, giving the Martha a weak little smile.  
“We were planning a science experiment for his… homework,” Doc added. “We asked for permission to use the surrounding area as well as this building to do it.”  
“Really,” Doyle remarked sarcastically, making everyone else jump in surprise. “It looks clear behind us,” he jerked his head towards Bodie, the bronze halo bouncing as he glanced over his shoulder.  
“D’you think they’ve forgotten about us?” Bodie asked softly.  
“No chance. This lot have probably got a better chance if we’re not around.”  
“Excuse me,” the Doctor tapped Bodie on the shoulder and gave him a stern look, “now, I don’t want to be forward,” Martha smothered a grin, “but I couldn’t help but notice that you both sound quite British… so what are you doing in America running around with guns and shooting people? ‘Cause, I just want to warn you that I really, really, really don’t like guns and by extension, those using them.”  
“Neither do I.” Doyle muttered.  
“Now Ray, be nice.” Bodie warned him mock-seriously. He winked at Marty. “I apologise for lumping you with him, kid. He doesn’t make sense at the best of times.”  
“Hey!”  
“Excuse me,” Martha said, raising her hand like a schoolgirl, “How come he’s Ray and you’re just Bodie? Do you have a first name?”  
“Yeah, he does,” Doyle smirked at Bodie, clearly relishing his revenge, “it just takes too long and doesn’t pander to his ego.” Bodie rolled his eyes and ran his free hand through his hair, smoothing the short black hairs that stuck out like Mercury’s helmet.  
“I don’t have an ego. I’m just –“  
“Tall, dark and beautiful, I know.” Doyle interrupted. “We should get moving –“  
“Not a scarecrow, that’s what I was going to say.”  
“Lay on, McDuff,” Doyle gestured with his gun up the corridor. Bodie began to advance, his poise suddenly switching from an easy confidence to a lethal tiger. He froze. Doyle froze too, his gun raised.  
“There’s something wrong,” Bodie muttered, so low Martha wasn’t sure that she’d heard him.  
“Everyone watch where you’re putting your feet. Step where we step.” Doyle ordered.  
“Why?” Marty asked in a strange tone of voice like he was almost scared, but not quite at that stage yet. It was a prelude to terror.  
“Because I think this bit is booby trapped.”  
Cautiously, Bodie began to test the floorboards in front of him, his face stony. “Clear so far,” he whispered, beckoning them forwards.  
“Be careful Bodie…”  
“What do you think I’m being?” he snapped. Doyle lifted his hands in surrender.  
“I’m just having flashbacks here,” he said apologetically. “Remember the phone?”  
“Don’t remind me, you bastard.” They had inched to below a flight of stairs intersecting the passage, their hearts pounding in their chests. The passage was like a crossroads, the stairs opposite another passage that bent away from them. The Doctor grabbed for the sonic.  
“Let me –“ he began.  
That’s when a man raced around the corner and threw a circular object at their feet.  
The heartbeat stretched crimson. Instinct stirred.  
Then it detonated with the sound of a thousand supernovas.


End file.
